


Challenges of Leading

by Lunaraen



Series: Challenges of [4]
Category: Challenge of the Spooky Isles
Genre: Magical Realism, Self-Doubt, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 15:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunaraen/pseuds/Lunaraen
Summary: Quinn’s in over her head and she’s finally feeling the brunt of everything and struggling to balance it out, and it’s hard not to feel like she’s sinking the entire time.She’s lucky enough to get some help from where she least expects it.





	Challenges of Leading

Quinn is tired and the campfire is warm.

It stands out from the darker, more muted colors of their shelter, the large but mostly empty hut made of a mix of stone bricks and packed dirt. The most colorful thing beyond the fire is the assortment of uncurled sleeping mats and messily laid out blankets surrounding the flames in a loose circle, and even their colors are too muted for Quinn right now, too much like the dead ashen colored trees creaking outside in the wind.

The fire's bright and captivating, with none of the emotions attached to looking at the sleeping pads or occasional bits of strewn out belongings.

The flames dance and the logs crackle quietly, the wood slowly being eaten and beginning to fold upon itself, and she prefers listening to the small pops and hisses rather than the wind outside, or the barely muffled arguing.

(The closer she is to the fire, the warmer and nicer it feels, the kinder the dancing flashes of orange seem, and at this point she's considering hurling herself into the flames.

It doesn’t sizzle the way the lava lakes in the area do, and she’s never seen lava look as inviting as the fire does.

Only two things are holding her back, one being the logic screaming in her head at her romanticism and her apathy about how that's a stupid idea, and the second being how Durango's eyeing her like he thinks she might actually do it.)

"We really need to talk about you diving headfirst into everything." It's one of the ways he has no shame, knowing who he is and daring to tell her that anyway.

His smile lets her know he's well aware of it too, hat tilted just enough so it's covering one of his eyes.

"So says the world's biggest hypocrite."

This isn't the first time they've had this sort of conversation, but it's the first time Quinn's been on the receiving end of the knowing look and the half-disappointed tone, the first time she's the one curling in on herself and trying not to look like a kicked, surly dog.

(Durango sounds knowing, too, and he's got the gall to sound like he knows anything when none of them really know what they're doing out here.

Helping people, sure, but they're not heroes. Not really.

None of them are besides Theseus, that is, and even he looks to her like he thinks she knows more than he does, like they're not working for his all-powerful uncle and like she's not some loner who got plucked away from her home.)

"Yeah, but y'all expect that kind of stuff from me. Kinda what I do." Durango shrugs, posture and smile equally loose and unaffected by the sharper look she shoots him. "Nobody really expects that kind of stuff from you, Quinn, not when we're all busy waiting for you to show us how to get through things."

"...I didn't ask you to follow me."

They share a look, each of them staring the other down, Durango half-smirking as he raises an eyebrow and as she narrows her eyes at him. He’s daring her to believe that as much as she’s daring him to keep pressing.

It's not clear if she's talking about him following her back to the fire or everyone following her as the leader, not even to her.

"Really? Sure you didn't." Durango snorts, linking his fingers behind his head as he leans against the wall. "Because I remember being all gung-ho for Kate's awesome prizes and not given half a darn about who I had to go through to get them. You were the one who worried about the teams that went and got eliminated. You were the one who got people to start working together, across teams and stuff."

Quinn's having an argument with Durango and losing.

If that doesn't sum up her night, she's not sure what would, but she's sure she's had enough of it.

There's not even the expected huff from him, no chuckle or smirk, when she breaks eye contact first, staring at the fire again and ignoring the way his expression softens.

"...I'm not saying I'd- like, you know I wouldn't've..." He fumbles with his words, and she can't help but glance back at him, Durango no longer looking at her as he scuffs the floor with the toe of his boot, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Heck, _I_ don't know if I would've. I'm greedy, and maybe a few nails short of a horseshoe. All hat, no cattle, that sorta thing. Kate picked me to just be funny, I guess, but... but I don't even know if I would've tried helping River any if it meant getting to the prize first, if you didn't knock some sense into me, and there ain't much funny about that, is there?"

"Durango..."

"I'm not... I'm not looking for pity. Or trying to make it about me." He looks back up at her, and she shouldn't be as surprised by the finger jabbed in her direction as she is. "'cause it's about _you_ , Quinn. You're the one who got us working together. Because of you, we're friends. Otherwise, I'd... I'd have just tried to screw everyone over and go home with the goods."

She can't say anything to that, nothing useful, so she doesn't.

They butted heads a lot at first, but she can't say she knows what he was really like as a person before this all started. Given how he acted when Kate first dragged them into her games, maybe he really would've.

He's better now, but they both know that, so there's no point in saying it either.

"So leave the being stupid thing to me. You're supposed to be the smart one, and you're scaring everybody." The guilt gnawing on Quinn's insides begins to twist, her stomach clenching at the reminder. "...I'm not saying you can't be angry, though, or whatever it is that's got you all fired up. You've got a right to that. What you don't got a right to is jumping right into everything and then snapping at everybody for it, for being worried about you, like we did something; if we did, you ain't told us what yet."

"You guys didn't do anything. Not really. I’m just tired and sick of all these close calls."

That didn't stop her from diving into a den of spiders alone and yelling at Toby afterwards when he tried to make sure she was okay.

(The spiders dropped plenty of string, a pile of it tucked away and half-forgotten in her backpack. They need more string for rope, and they needed more rope after today's near disastrous rescues, where nobody was hurt but everyone came pretty close because they were shorter on supplies than they first thought.

Even with the strong breeze, Durango still smells like smoke, but that might be the fire messing with her. It's hard to blame their campfire for how the side of his hat is singed, though, not when he was the one dangling over lava.

Maybe they saved the people they needed to and sent them home fine, but the entire thing was their shakiest one yet, and it really shouldn't have been with how much Zeus can do. Quinn and her friends are putting themselves in danger daily to save people when Zeus probably could've done it with the flick of a lever or a few button presses.

And maybe Toby just meant the best when he tried to make sure she was okay, spotting her split lip first, but Quinn was tired and angry and even if the anger's left her now, she's so tired. She barely remembers telling the others to just drop it and leave her alone.)

"...Quinn, how many friends does a jerk have?" Durango's smile sharpens. "And drinking buddies don't count; everybody's a jerk when they're drinking."

That's not quite how it works, but Durango seems like the type to always get in over his head, even when he's drinking.

Maybe especially when he's drinking.

(That's a friend thing, isn't it? Knowing stuff about your friends like what they're like when they're drinking?)

"Sounds like a joke. How many friends _does_ a jerk have?"

"None." If it's a joke, it's a poor one, but Quinn smiles at his answer anyway and at how he jabs his thumb at himself. "See, I know that 'cause I'm a jerk. But you aren't. You've never been the jerk, Quinn."

There's a second part to that, one she can almost feel and one he doesn't say.

_So why start now?_

She doesn't answer it, swallowing as she looks back at the growing, shimmering flames, watches the curling plumes of smoke. None of the others have come into the shelter since Quinn stormed away and started the fire, and while it's late, it won't be properly dark for at least another hour.

"Did they send you over, or...?"

He laughs, then, more than the chuckles and huffs she's been getting. It's not his warmest, or even fullest, but it's a bark of a laugh and it helps her shoulders unknot.

"Heck no. Kate wanted to talk to you first, but Toby kinda snapped at her after you left, so Theseus's been trying to help Zed get them to simmer down. They're not really fighting or anything, though. Just a little snippy, and you're kind of scary when you're angry." Durango rubs the back of his neck before frowning down at the ground, muttering more to himself than to her when he continues, tone more nonchalant. "There's gotta be a way to say that better."

"What?"

"Theseus. Long name, innit?" The way Durango says the name is off, a little slowed down and spaced out to make his point, and Quinn can't help but smile as she briefly copies the tone.

"Durango." He blinks at her before his expression tugs into a twist of a scowl and a grin, teeth showing even as he huffs. She can't help but snicker as she starts speaking normally again. "Your name's just as long as his."

"Yeah, but I can't slur his like you could mine. Mine rolls off the tongue; part of the charm. His? It's too darn clunky."

"Quitter."

It's yet another unexpected turn in the conversation, but it's one that doesn't make her feel awful.

"Hey, it..." Any steam Durango has leaves him then, the frown replaced by a small half-smile and an equally tired chuckle. "Yeah, I guess that sounds like quitter talk. Eh, whatever. I'll figure it out; it's not like he's going anywhere anytime soon."

Because they're in this together, like they have been since Quinn took up Zeus's offer, and they're not going to stop looking to Quinn to guide them anytime soon either.

They're not going stop worrying about her either.

She sighs, legs relaxing as they slump to the floor, one of her boots twitching back and forth as her feet stay crossed. Her palms are pressed flat against the floor, one hand partly pressing down on her sleeping pad while her fingers trace the grout between the bricks.

"I should go back and apologize to everybody, right?"

"Probably." Durango pauses, worrying his lower lip between his teeth before he pushes up his hat with his thumb, both eyes looking at her. "You might want to explain it to them. We know you're human, Quinn, and we're your friends. We want to help you out too."

It's the nicest thing she never expected him to say, in part because she's realizing she never even considered that.

Quinn's gotten fed up with being the one constantly looked to, but asking for help in return is... a surprisingly obvious solution that should not just be coming to her now. Maybe she doesn’t want to be weak when they’re all depending on her, but she’ll take looking weak over yelling at and hurting the people close to her.

Quinn hates it when she's her own worst enemy.

"I'll try to keep that in mind." With that and a drawn out sigh, she pushes herself to her feet, rakes her ponytail over her shoulder so it’s resting against her back again, and glances at the still crackling fire. “Hey, do you mind watching the fire for me?”

Durango nods, shirt catching a bit as he slides his back down the wall, one leg bent and his hat tilted over his eye again as he sits, fingers looping behind his head once more.

It’s a lazy pose, and not one that should be reassuring.

“I think I can handle that.”


End file.
